


The Regret Message

by TwiExMachina



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Post-Fire Emblem Fates: Conquest, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 02:00:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7825834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwiExMachina/pseuds/TwiExMachina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Flow along, little wish</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Tears and a little bit of regret</i>
  <br/>
  <i>If we could be reborn…</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Corrin wishes that she could have kept her promise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Regret Message

**Author's Note:**

> So when I'm sad about Birthright, [I write about cuddling](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7094089). When I'm sad about Conquest, I decide to wallow in angst. I don't know how that works. I still haven't played Revelations yet.
> 
> Title and lyrics being used as transitions are from the song Regret Message, specifically [this version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R4shMkF0ymk&ab_channel=scezaria) of the song.

(In a little port on the outskirts of town, a young girl stands alone)

The lake outside of Castle Krakenburg wasn’t the same as the lake where Corrin met Azura, but it felt similar enough, especially when the sun started to set. That always felt like the warmest part of the day, and the way the lake shimmered made her feel like Azura would appear. She wondered if she’d see Azura again, what angle she had to stare at the lake in order to see that mirage again, to hear her voice again.

Corrin stepped out into the lake, felt the stones and silt slide against her feet. She lifted her foot out of the water and let it fall back down again. She stared at the ripples and raised her foot again, slowly this time, foot at a delicate point. She held it above the water and moved her toe along the surface of the water. Her balance started to sway and she lowered her foot back into the water, straight at her side. She breathed out, pushing her hands down in front of her, then crossed her wrists and brought them up above her head. She watched her hands as they stretched up towards the sun, then lowered them out at her sides, palms up like they were running down a wall. She bent her knees and slid her foot along the sentiment, tracing a dissolving line with her foot. She tried to turn with it, lost her balance. She fell back onto her butt, and the water splashed up around her. She sighed, ran her hands through her hair, and stared up at the fading sky.

(By this sea, there existed an old tradition from long ago:)

Queen Hinoka commissioned a portrait of Ryoma. “He never got to rule,” Hinoka said to Corrin as the two of them looked up at him, “but he did a lot for Hoshido. So I thought this would be good for him.”

Corrin looked. She didn’t know much about art, but she could tell the painting was well composed, with broad strokes of red and white. His face was stern, didn’t have any of the kindness she had seen her first days in Hoshido. He was drawing Raijinto, the blade arcing lightning across his body. The sparks collected in a slash over his stomach. Corrin turned away from the painting, covering her mouth. She could smell blood, burning flesh, the stench of organs.

“Corrin! Corrin!” Hinoka’s voice drew Corrin out of the memory. Hinoka stood in front of Corrin, cupped her cheeks, held her steady. “Hey, look at me. You’re here. You’re not there, you’re here, alright?”

Here, with her sister, a Queen, with her crown spiking out of her shaggy hair like a star. Hinoka, Hinoka. Corrin shook her head, wiped tears from her face. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Just stay with me.”

“Yeah, I’m here. It’s just…that…it seems cruel.” Corrin put her hands over her stomach.

Hinoka looked down. “Oh…Corrin, that’s just tradition. _Seppuku_. There’s not a good word in common, but it’s tradition. Rather than fall into the hands of an enemy, samurai would kill themselves.”

Corrin thought of Hana, how they reported that she tried to steal a knife when they were in captivity, wondered if Hinata would’ve done the same if they hadn’t struck him down where he stood at the gate.

“It might seem harsh to you, but for him to die like that…it was the best for him. And for all, what he did was honorable. So when the painting was commissioned…well, I had to go for that.” She clicked her tongue and turned her head to the side, stared up at her brother.

“It’s a lovely painting,” Corrin said. “I just can’t look at it.” And she probably shouldn’t look at a display of all of Ryoma’s pride and honor, considering she couldn’t save him, couldn’t bring them all together.

Hinoka rubbed her shoulder. “Hey, come on. Let’s walk.” Hinoka led Corrin down another corridor, through the halls. Corrin didn’t know her way around. “We have another tradition, and Sakura could tell you about that.” Corrin followed behind Hinoka, staring at her wide white collar, her mane of hair, the golden crown spiking above it all. “It’s hopeful, is what it is.”

Hinoka opened the door. Sakura was sitting on the floor, crying, parchment strung around the room like plucked feathers.

(“Write your wish on a piece of parchment and place it in a little bottle. If you let it flow in the sea, someday your wish will come true”)

Sakura creased her folds with a sharp motion, like a taunt bowstring snapping into place. She did this every time, the fold slow and smooth, the crease sharp. Corrin watched in silence. Hana sat behind Sakura, staring at the ceiling. Subaki sat in the sunlight, clenching and unclenching his fist like he wasn’t sure if it’d work anymore. Sakura did the last fold and held the crane out in her hand. “S-see?”

Corrin reached for it, looked at Sakura, waited for her nod, then took it. “It’s really wonderful.”

Sakura took it back and placed it in a corner with others. “Cranes are said to live for a thousand years. So if I make a-a thousand, my wish will come true.”

Corrin knelt down. There were writing on some of the birds, cut off in the overlap. Some were in Hoshidan, others in Common. She recognized her brothers’ names, her mother’s.

“I write messages on them, prayers, thoughts. It helps. It helps.”

“Can I make cranes?”

“You have to make your own wish. I have to make a thousand. My-myself.”

“That’s fine.” She had her wish, never lost it. Sakura showed her the steps to make a crane. When Corrin held up her work, Sakura laughed. Corrin frowned and lowered her hands. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

Sakura wiped tears from her eyes—happy ones, accompanied with rosy cheeks and a small smile that felt warm—and nodded. “Yeah.”

“There is another,” Subaki said from his spot in the sun. “Another, similar one.”

Sakura blinked, tilted her head, then gasped. “Oh! The bottle!”

“Bottle?” Corrin asked.

Sakura nodded, looked to Subaki. He was looking out the window again. She turned to Corrin. “Bottles float in water, empty ones, I mean. So if you put a message in a bottle, someone across the way could open it and read it. The sea…there’s no end to the sea. The only ones who can read it are gods. S-so, if you put a message in a bottle, and float it along, a god could read it. And they could grant it.”

Corrin looked at the misshapen crane in her hands, stroked the beak with one finger.

(Flow along little glass bottle, with a message containing a wish. On the other side of the horizon, there it quietly disappears.)

Corrin filled up both sides of a piece of paper. She wrote small, but still she had so much to say. She felt like she had to convince whomever read it that her wish was worth answering, even if her fingers were sticky with blood. There were five spots on the page that were damp and weak when she started crying. She ran her fingers over the label, a Nohrian brand of wine. She hadn’t had much at dinner, but between her other three siblings—Elise was not allowed anything beyond a taste from Camilla’s glass—the bottle was emptied. She asked for it, Camilla thought of it as a souvenir, and cooed as she handed it over.

It seemed wrong to use a bottle of Nohrian wine for her wish. There was nothing wrong with Nohr, but it felt too loaded, after everything that had happened. She picked at the label until it peeled away. She let the scraps of paper curl and fall into the sea. It floated to the surface, but with a couple pulsing of the waves, it became lost at sea. She scraped her nail against the glue, smoothing the glass.

For a long while, she just stood with the waves lapping at her ankles, then she moved forward, up to her knees, then further, to her waist. The waves seemed to be pulling her. She thought of Azura, the water that came when she sang, flowed around her, wondered if she was taking her hips and pulling her further out, towards her, wherever she was. Corrin took in a shaking breath, let it out and tried not to cry. She kissed the steam of the bottle. “Please,” she whispered. “Please.” She lowered her arms and let the bottle pull from her hands as the tide drifted out. She watched the bottle, didn’t dare to blink. She watched the bottle until she couldn’t tell if it was the bottle or the full moon’s reflection splitting on the water. She watched until she was certain it was gone. Then she breathed.

(You always did everything for my sake)

Xander found Corrin walking the halls at night. Corrin saw him and tried to walk away, but he called her name. She stood in the dark hallway as Xander approached. She forced a smile. “Hey Xander! I was just going to go to the kitchens to get a midnight snack!”

“Have you been having nightmares?” Xander said, not believing her for an instant.

Corrin blinked. “How did you know?”

Xander just smiled, and his brow was wrinkled and the bags under his eyes seemed especially dark. He held her hand and led her to the kitchen, brought down Jakob’s cookies where he had them stashed up high. He handed one to Corrin, took one of his own. He leaned against the counter and Corrin sat on the table across from him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Corrin thought, tore apart the cookie as she ate. “Azura.”

“Azura?”

“Azura.” Corrin took another bite of her cookie. “She was always there for me. It wasn’t easy during the war. And I doubted so much.” Corrin pressed her face into her hands and breathed. She didn’t cry, but her breathing shook like she was going to. Xander walked forward and wrapped his arms around her, pressed her into the crook of his neck. Corrin sniffed, moved to rest her chin on his shoulder. “Did you? Do you?”

“Doubt?”

Corrin nodded.

Xander pulled back, scrubbed his thumb under her eye. Maybe she had been crying. Maybe he just expected her to. “Now, no. Then, yes. Every day.”

She thought when they were facing what Garon had become, his anguished speech at the thing he had called a father for so many years. She looked at her cookie, ate a little bit more. Jakob’s cookies always tasted like home, like comfort, like warmth even when stale. She didn’t know home could become ash. “She killed for me. She killed someone who was trying to kill me so I wouldn’t have to. Her hands were bloody and she held mine and promised to always be there for me.”

Corrin was crying now, biting her hands to muffle herself. Xander shushed her, took her wrists and gently pulled her hands away. “This happens, Corrin, and it’s okay, you’re allowed to cry, you are not weaker because of it, you are not.”

So she cried, pressed her forehead against Xander and cried. “She’s dead, isn’t she Xander? I’m never going to see Azura again, am I?”

Everyone else acted like she was gone only temporary. Camilla seemed certain that she had just run off, disappeared like those three retainers into the night. And she could believe that for a time. But since Xander’s coronation, since the moonlight on the water reminded her of Azura, since the wind in the pines sang in her voice, she wondered.

Xander stared at Corrin, so sad, so torn, sat next to her on the counter and pulled her into his lap, curled her there, pressed his lips into her hair and said “It is not in my nature to hope.” 

(All that I ever wanted and yet……………..)

Corrin didn’t remember much about what happened after that late night with Xander. Tears, overwhelming. Sorrow, overflowing. Xander carrying her.

Corrin screaming into his shoulder that she loved Azura.

Corrin loved a lot of people. Her family, both of them. The friends she had made in her elite squadron. And Azura.

Azura was different. They had bonded so quickly. They were the same, girls who were taken, girls with two families, girls hidden away from the world. Girls with blood on their hands later, girls with a terrible secret much later.

Corrin trusted Azura in all ways: with her life, with her back, with her council, with her secrets. Corrin turned to Azura when the war raged, not just because of what she had seen in that crystal. She could’ve turned to Leo, ever the strategist, to Camilla, smart and shrewd, to Xander, the Crown Prince, but she more often than not had Azura at her side with her quiet wisdom.

At her side, at her side.

And Azura would never know. She never got to tell her.

(I was always so selfish and troublesome for you)

“It’s not picky, is the problem,” Camilla muttered as she watched Sakura. “Your weapons would be easier to handle if they were picky.”

Corrin stiffened, but Hinoka only grinned. “We just have more skill than you.”

Sakura was firing Fujin Yumi. The string materialized, light straight from end to end. Sakura’s fingers curled around the band, pulled back. A bolt of light fell into place, sparking. She fired and hit the target. Camilla clapped and Hinoka cheered. Sakura grinned, continued firing.

“She’s doing a lot better,” Hinoka said. “Concentration is required for that bow. I never could get it to work.”

“Takumi,” Corrin started, looked down. “Sorry.”

“No. It’s fine, go ahead,” Hinoka insisted.

“I didn’t know him well,” Corrin said, “but Takumi never struck me as one to concentrate.”

Hinoka smiled sadly. “Yeah, I can understand that.”

“Well, we weren’t exactly on the best of terms with him,” Camilla sighed, crossing her arms. “Sorry, darling.”

Hinoka shook her head. “I don’t want you guys to have bad memories of him. I’m not going to say that he wasn’t a moody brat sometimes, because he was. I won’t take that away from him. I’m not going to make him sweet and easy to swallow. He had his problems, he had mood swings, he threw tantrums, but he was strong, he was focused. If he wanted something, he’d make sure he’d get it. That’s why he could use Fujin Yumi so effortlessly because he didn’t falter, he always pushed ahead. He made himself able to be worthy of that bow. Gods, I’ve always admired that about him, always thought that he’d be a powerful ruler because of it.”

Camilla wrapped her arm around Hinoka and stroked her arm. “He does sound like a wonderful child. Reminds me of Leo in a way.”

Hinoka smiled. “Yeah, I always thought that they could get along.” She blinked rapidly and scrubbed at her eyes.

“Oh, dear, you wear makeup now you can’t do that.”

“Damnit!” Hinoka cursed, and Camilla smiled and laughed.

Corrin stared off at Fujin Yumi’s flickering light. She remembered him, on that wall, crying that he wanted to be her brother. She remembered the endless field, Takumi calm. She clung to those memories, stared as Sakura bit her lip and closed her eyes as the light began to unravel under her fingers. She wished she had more of those two memories, wished she knew what she had to do to see an honest smile when he was alive. She wondered what she would give up to see that again.

The light shattered and Sakura lowered her bow, shaking her head back and forth. Camilla and Hinoka started into the field and stood at her side.

(You, who grant my wishes, are no longer here)

Hinoka held Raijinto. “It’s my duty now,” she said. “I’ve got to use you,” she said to it. Corrin felt like she was intruding, but Hinoka insisted that Corrin and Xander be present. Hinoka wrapped her fingers around the shaft, closed her eyes, and took a shaking breath. She opened her eyes again, then gestured with the hilt of the katana at the two of them. “So you two have legendary swords.”

“Not all swords were forged equal,” Xander said. “I had to earn the right to use Siegfried, and it will only work for me. There is only one.”

Corrin shrugged. She had never thought of what made her sword, what made its power. “Yato doesn’t have any tricks. It just is.”

Hinoka sighed. “Well that’s comforting…” She paced in front of them. “It burned me, before.”

Xander nodded. “I’d expect something like that to happen.” He was quiet. “May I talk about him?”

Hinoka glared. Silence stretched out. Then she nodded.

Xander stood, walked over to Hinoka. He gave her a respectable distance, moved slowly, gestured with broad motions, watching her the entire time. “I remember Ryoma’s last stand, how he drew his weapon and lit the room without harming any of us. That was power being carefully controlled, manipulated. Raijinto is a weapon with incredible power. But unlike Siegfried, it pushes its power outward. You have to be the conductor, to control that outward force.”

Hinoka looked up at Xander, clenched Raijinto so tight that her hands shook. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Theories are always easy. Practice rarely is. But that’s why you must practice.”

Corrin watched. Xander easily filled the role of big brother to anyone who managed to talk to him for long enough, long enough for him to get invested. Corrin liked seeing her two families getting along. It meant progress. Things were still strained between them. Elise and Sakura had warmed up well, and Camilla enjoyed teasing Hinoka, who always just blushed but didn’t storm off like she usually did, but her brothers had trouble with the Hoshidan sisters.

But here they were, Xander calmly helping and Hinoka letting him, looking up at him and asking questions, trying to understand and Xander making himself understood. It was heartwarming, broke her heart too. Ryoma should’ve been the one to help her, should’ve been her big brother, should’ve been consoling her and helping her.

Hinoka looked up at Xander, nodded seriously, and he took a step back. She grit her teeth and clicked Raijinto out of its sheath. It sparked, arched lightning up her arm and she stood tall. Xander visibly relaxed and smiled.

(Will my thoughts on this sea arrive at their destination?)

Camilla combed Corrin’s hair. “Thank you, dear. I’ve just been so stressed lately.”

“It’s no problem,” Corrin said. She had been stressed too. Depressed, mostly. Unable to sleep, sleep she stole racked with nightmares. Azura’s song in every breath of wind, her sigh in every spring. “I need this too.” Corrin smiled, tried to look over her shoulder at Camilla and got a brush in her eye for her trouble. “I used to look forward to you doing my hair whenever you came to visit me.”

Camilla smiled. “That was my favorite part too. Alongside the cuddles. And reading on the couch. And the tickle fights.”

“No tickle fights.”

“Oh, let’s be honest, I loved everything about seeing you.” Camilla stopped brushing and wrapped her arms around Corrin, pulling her against her chest and kissing her cheek. She cuddled Corrin for a couple more seconds before she sighed and let her go. “I always found the hair relaxing though. You never fell asleep. Elise always falls asleep when you do anything with heir hair, which is sweet, but makes it hard to style.”

“I think I never fell asleep because I always had brambles in my hair.”

“My little wild sister. But even still, it always relaxed me. And gods only know how much relaxing I need.” She sighed, combed Corrin’s hair smooth. “I understand why Xander wants all of us by his side, but I’ve had enough court to last a lifetime.”

Corrin was silent, let Camilla pull at her hair. “Does Xander know?”

“Of course he knows. He’s been trying to redo the entire court in order to fit me into a place where I feel comfortable. I admire it, and I won’t deny it’s appealing. But still.” She twirled Corrin’s hair around her finger. “But still.”

“Can you braid my hair?”

“Of course.” Camilla braided her hair. “I would’ve left here a long time ago, you know. Without Father…I have no reason to stay and continue to be a princess, continue doing this. Xander would never force me to stay, no matter how much he believes he needs my opinion.”

“You make it sound like you would’ve left right after his coronation, with…those three.”

“I considered it. But poor Hinoka looked so out of place, I thought I’d see hers and cheer her on. And well, we’ve both lost siblings. It’s not the same, of course, but it’s similar enough. We’ve talked. I’ve gotten her to trust me now.”

“I’ve noticed. I…I really like seeing you guys get along.”

Camilla hummed behind her. “You’ve lost siblings too. But make no mistake, Corrin, we are not similar at all. In that right, you have more in common with Hinoka than me.” Corrin’s hands shivered in her lap. Camilla’s hands were steady in her hair. “What happened, you must never believe it was your fault. There is no sibling blood on your hands. You went into this war with the purest intentions and I believe that you came out of it the purest. No matter what happened, everything you have done was for the best.” Camilla let the braid go. Without her holding it, it slowly puffed out and unraveled. She wrapped her arms around Corrin, pressed her face into her shoulder. “I will stay until you believe that, my precious little sister. When you stop wandering the halls and stealing cookies just so you can sleep, I will feel safe enough to say goodbye to you. But until then…” she pulled back, “I’ve got to fix this braid! All my hard work, gone!”

Corrin fell asleep in Camilla’s arms, her redone braid tickling her cheek.

(Flow along little wish, tears and a little bit of regret)

Corrin still got lost at Shirasagi. She always seemed to find her way back to the sunset lake where she first met Azura. She sat on the dock and stared at the orange flickering over the water. Would this lake bring the mirage? The lake they had first met? She was just so desperate to see Azura again. There was no way that such bright orange would bring Azura back to her. But this was where they met. This place had meaning.

Corrin slid down the dock, just sitting on the edge. She held onto the wood, dipped her foot down. Her toe skimmed the surface of the water. Ripples echoed, disrupted the surface, and Corrin stared until the lake calmed again. She flicked her toe across the water, scattering an arc of droplets. Corrin remembered that odd time when she disappeared into the lake. Maybe that was where she was, in that space between worlds.

Corrin fell back and stared into the sky. It was already night above her, the Hoshidan night that seemed too bright, too clear and somehow blue. Her foot dangled in the water.

(When I had realized my sins, it was after everything was already over.)

Corrin tried to see if she could get through the water to that floating place that she followed Azura to. She wasn’t sure if she should ever emerge. Elise screamed from the shore and Arthur tried to rescue her, so Corrin got out of the lake to drag Arthur out where he had faceplanted.

“I wasn’t dying, I was swimming.”

“You weren’t coming out,” Elise muttered. She threw a towel onto Corrin’s hair.

“How long was I under?”

“A long, long time,” Elise pouted. “I mean, I get that you’re a dragon, but I worry, you know.”

“I know, Elise. Thank you.”

“Do you want some tea? Jakob made it, but I put the sugar in it.”

Jakob already put sugar in it, Corrin was sure. “Of course.” Elise brought over the pot and poured two cups. Corrin drank. The tea practically grit against her teeth. “Delicious.”

Elise grinned and drank. Her face slowly got more serious. “Do I have the same eyes now?”

“As who?”

“As Xander, Camilla, and Leo. And you. You guys always have this odd look, and sometimes you get lost. You didn’t always have that, and I guess we were similar that way. Not anymore. Well, maybe. But sometimes, I start thinking and then I’m not me anymore, I’m somewhere else. Or something. I just wonder if that’s how you guys feel.”

Corrin opened her mouth. “I…I don’t know.”

Elise pouted and drank her tea. “I never know how to say it…” Elise looked up at Corrin. “Do you have anything you want to talk about?”

Corrin opened her mouth. “I mean…yes. But…”

“Go ahead.”

“But—”

“Go ahead. I want to hear.”

She stared down at her tea. “I always wonder what would happen if I did things differently, if I had said something else that day. If I had did something differently. Then maybe Ryoma and Takumi would still be here. Maybe I wouldn’t have to face them and push them to their deaths. Do you think that could’ve happened?”

Elise bit her lip. “Yes. Maybe. Probably. But that scares me.”

“Why?”

“Because what if that meant I wouldn’t see you again? What if that meant you leaving me? I don’t think I could bear a choice where you leave us.”

Corrin looked down at her tea. “I don’t think I could either.”

(Flow along little glass bottle, with a message containing a wish.)

Leo was teaching Corrin about politics. Xander wanted all of his siblings to participate in helping him rule, to help keep him in check, something Leo was well suited to do, but not Corrin. She wanted to help, to help push for peace. But it wasn’t as simple as waving a sword around. It was politics, subtly, study, things she wasn’t skilled with. Leo was. Leo helped, poured over legal documents with her and guiding her through the process. He was a focused and dedicated teacher.

Niles walked into the room and Leo stuttered in the middle of his sentence, his careful chosen words falling and turning into a disjointed noise. Corrin covered her mouth to muffle her laugh, expected Niles to say something in return, but his face was somber, oddly serious. Niles shook his head. “Sorry, milord.”

Leo sighed and pushed back against his chair, hard enough that the wood shook. “I should’ve expected…thank you, Niles.”

Niles nodded. “It’s hard to imagine that someone as talkative as him could just disappear without a trace.”

“Thank you, Niles.” Niles bowed his head and left. Leo tilted his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Odin?” Corrin asked, quietly.

“Gone, with the others. Without a word, for once in his life. And not even Niles can find out where he has gone.” Leo sat up and shook his head, then forced a smile for Corrin. “My apologies. It seems like I have distracted from our lesson.”

“It’s alright, Leo. It’s alright.” Corrin put her hand over Leo’s and squeezed, tried to push all of her understanding into him without saying anything else.

Leo smiled at her, put his hand overtop of hers, squeezed, then slipped back. He went through one of his books and pulled out an envelope, worn and dented at the corners. She saw Odin’s name written on it. Leo stood and tossed it into the fire. Corrin jumped to her feet, ran to the fire to stop the burning from turning Odin’s name black. Leo grabbed Corrin’s arm. “Easy, sister. It’s not worth burning yourself over.”

“It’s for Odin though.”

Leo smiled and it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes. And we’ll never see Odin again.” He looked at the fire, at the letter curling in on itself like a dying bird. “I didn’t write that with the intention of seeing him anyway. Anything I’d want to say to him, I’d say in person. That was all catharsis.” He waved his hand at the clump of black, burning orange at the edges. “That was all for me.” Leo sighed and went back to the table. “If I find myself in a place where I need to share something with Odin, I’ll write him another letter so it doesn’t hurt as much.” He stared at the documents they had been going over, blinked multiple times like he didn’t understand or see what was in front of him, shook his head, smiled back at Corrin. “My apologies. I don’t think I have it in me to continue our lessons.”

Corrin nodded, walked up behind Leo’s chair and hugged him. He sighed, leaned into her arms. “Tomorrow then?”

“Tomorrow, certainly, will be better.”

(On the other side of the horizon, there it quietly disappears.)

_Azura,_

_I feel like we could’ve been closer. I feel like you hid so much. And I was fine with that. But really, I shouldn’t have been. I should’ve been closer with you, gotten to know you. I should’ve asked what was going on in those little moments where I didn’t know what was going on. I shouldn’t have dismissed that, I should’ve gotten to know you. You were always there for me and I should’ve been there for you. You weren’t just a voice of reason, of trust, you were my friend._

_I loved you._

_I really did. I do. I stand in the rain and pretend it’s you. I stand in the lake and dance and pretend it’s with you. I hear the wind and I pretend it’s your voice. I can’t go a day without thinking of you, wishing you were here._

_You disappeared._

_I’m sorry._

_I should’ve been looking for you, looking at you, should’ve never let you out of my sight._

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry._

(Flow along little wish)

_Takumi,_

_We never got along. I have so much I wanted to say to you, wanted to let you know how badly I wanted to be your big sister. In the end, I suppose we connected, we understood. And you smiled. You smiled in that endless field. It could’ve been a dream, the most wonderful dream I could’ve ever had. I just wish that it wasn’t at the end that we connected._

_My heart broke when you fell from the tower, for all reasons. Your death was probably the thing that hurt the least. The fact that I wasn’t fast enough to catch you. The fact that you desperately wanted to be my brother. I wish our relationship were more than desperate hypotheticals._

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry._

(Tears and a little bit of regret)

_Ryoma,_

_I’m sorry I couldn’t have kept my promise, couldn’t have been a family again. I’m sorry I couldn’t have saved you. You shouldn’t have had to die. You were too good of a brother to die like that._

_You were a calming presence. You were tall, strong, elegant, and you still had time for small smiles. I trusted you. I see your portrait once in a while. I hate it. You were far more than a fearsome warrior, even though I saw you as one so often on opposite sides of the battlefield. You were kind, you cared for your family. You might’ve been a samurai, but you were a brother._

_I remembered when you came to speak to me at Izumo. Granted, we didn’t get to speak long because you and Xander had to fight, but the fact that you reached out to me was comforting. We ate together, and I was so happy to see you smile, even at a distance._

_Come to think of it, even with your fight with Xander, that made the moment even better, I think. You two weren’t princes at the moment, but boys. Xander said ‘yeesh’. And you said you were more attractive. So childish!_

_I want us to all experience that, together._

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry._

(“If we were to be reborn………”)

At the back, there would be Hinoka and Leo, loitering. They would be snarking quietly at the view in front of them, teasing like they were above it, hiding twin grins behind their hands. Hinoka would bump shoulders with Leo. Leo would ignore it, only to kick at her calf.

Ryoma would be ahead of them, smothering Elise with his hair as he carried her on his back. Elise would always beg for a piggyback ride and Ryoma would never deny that. She was so small though, and his hair was so large, so suffocating. He’d apologize, but he’d be grinning to much at her flailing arms and legs and cries to regret it too much.

Takumi would be nearby, trying to be the mature one. He’d puff out his chest, act proud, but it fit like an untailored kimono. So Xander would be there, smiling, and he’d ruffle Takumi’s hair. Let him feel like the kid he is. Takumi wouldn’t react well, would yell despite preening under all that attention. He’d flush, and Xander would only grin in return.

Sakura would cling to Camilla’s arm, would look up to her as Camilla told stories, would drink everything she said up. Camilla would love the quiet attention, would poke and prod her for a reaction. Sometimes literally, pinching her rosy cheeks and laughing about it. But more often than not, soft touches, running her fingers through her hair.

And ahead of them all, Azura and Corrin, arm and arm and cheek to cheek, grinning together at their families.

“I’d like for us to be a family together.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've probably listened to Regret Message about 20 times while writing this and it turns out that's not a song that you get bored of.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to drop by my tumblr, [TwiExMachina](http://twiexmachina.tumblr.com/) as well.


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